


i cherish with fondness the day (before) i met you

by walcott



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M, One Shot, sterek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-05
Updated: 2014-01-05
Packaged: 2018-01-07 11:08:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1119134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/walcott/pseuds/walcott
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There’s something in Derek's eyes and Stiles can’t figure out what it is. It’s not always there, but sometimes Stiles glimpses it when Derek doesn’t think he’s looking. </p><p>Basically Stiles mixes up real life with Twilight for a quick second and everything turns out kinda sad.</p>
            </blockquote>





	i cherish with fondness the day (before) i met you

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place following season 3a episode 7, Currents. It bears stating that Stiles is 17 and Derek is somewhere in his 20's.

Stiles refrains from turning on his high beams so that Derek doesn’t think he’s scared. He follows the Camaro closely – too closely probably – keeping the nose of his Jeep less than a car’s length behind.  
  
The alpha’s phone call had awoken him at 2:45 a.m.; an hour after the boy had fallen asleep in last week’s math homework.  
  
“Meet at mine in 15 minutes.”  
  
Stiles stopped questioning Derek a long time ago. Months, at least. He stared into space for a moment. 2:45 a.m. and Derek wanted to see him. Had he been more present, he would have worked towards some conclusion, but his brain felt sloped and all he could focus on was absentmindedly slipping his shoes on and heaving himself out of his desk chair.  
  
Derek didn’t ask Stiles to ride with him. Instead, Stiles arrived at the loft and wordlessly followed the Camaro onto a side-road he’d never driven before.  
After what feels like a half hour of driving uphill, Derek turns off the road and parks in the dirt. Stiles does the same.  
  
They meet between the cars. Derek looks at Stiles for a moment, and then takes off into the forest. Stiles wants to say something witty, but he feels dysfunctional, so he follows in silence  
  
They walk for ten minutes until Derek finally comes to a halt in front of a tree slightly larger than the rest. He waits for Stiles to catch up with him under a particularly low-hanging branch.  
  
Stiles watches Derek’s back for an extended amount of time as the two stand in silence, Derek facing the tree.  
  
“This is where my mother is buried.”  
  
Derek breaks the silence. The statement hovers as Stiles contemplates what to say.  
  
He clears his throat.  
  
“My, uh, my mom is buried in the cemetery. She was, uh, really involved in the preservation of the town’s history and my dad wanted her to be a part of it.”  
Derek turns after a minute of silence.  
  
“I always forget that you lost someone too.”  
  
Stiles shrugs.  
  
“We try not to talk about it."  
  
Derek’s eyes rest on Stiles’ face. He remains silent for another moment.  
  
“How much has Scott told you about Alison?”  
  
Stiles squints.  
  
“Far too much.”  
  
Derek exhales sharply, and Stiles assumes that he would probably laugh (if he had a heart).  
  
“How much has he told you about the lore concerning wolves and love?”  
  
“You mean imprinting?”  
  
Derek’s gaze turns to a glare.  
  
“That’s from Twilight.”  
  
Stiles squirms. Oops.  
  
“Ok, then no, nothing.”  
  
Derek rubs his eyebrows. There’s something in his eyes and Stiles can’t figure out what it is. It’s not always there, but sometimes Stiles glimpses it when Derek doesn’t think he’s looking.  
  
The second Derek realizes that Stiles may be catching on, he closes his eyes, and when he opens them again, they’re blank.  
  
“You know what? It doesn’t matter. Stiles, the bottom line is I need you to stop spending so much time with the pack.”  
  
“What? Why? No. No! No. Scott needs me, ok? He’s smart and he has his wolfy powers, but without me he’s like a lost puppy, no pun intended.”  
  
“Stiles, it’s for the best interest of the pack.”  
  
“What the fuck does that even mean? That’s why you brought me out here. You knew that if I was anywhere near Scott, he would find out and shut you down. And it’s not just Scott, ok? Isaac needs me too. Who do you think saved him at the motel? Who do you think saved everybody at the motel?”  
  
Derek moves closer to Stiles.  
  
“That’s not fair, Stiles, I was dying!”  
  
“Yeah? Well we thought you were dead. Did it not occur to you to just, I don’t know, shoot off a text saying ‘btw still alive???’”  
  
“I was a little busy!”  
  
Stiles scoffs.  
  
“Yeah, with our fuckin’ English teacher.”  
  
Derek shakes his head.  
  
“That was a moment of… weakness, I’ll admit it.”  
  
“Yeah, no shit, Sherlock.”  
  
The two stand in silence for a moment. Derek looks at the tree, seemingly grasping for something out of reach. Stiles glares at Derek, until he sees the absence of anger replaced by something sadder. His eyes soften and he rubs his face with his hands.  
  
“Derek, I need a better explanation.”  
  
Derek is silent for a moment.  
  
“The alphas went after Jennifer because they thought it would hurt me. They go after Melissa because they know it will affect Scott, and now Isaac.”  
  
“So what? Are you trying to say you’re worried about my dad? He’s the sheriff, Derek, he’s probably the safest person in Beacon Hills.”  
  
“I’m not worried about your dad, Stiles, I’m worried about you.”  
  
Stiles squints and shakes his head rapidly.  
  
“What? Derek, how can I get this through your furry ears? I’m fine. I am surrounded by Alison and Scott and Isaac. I’m not in danger. If anything, I’d be in more danger if I stopped hanging out with them.”  
  
Derek encroaches on Stiles’ space and Stiles nearly backs into the tree.  
  
“What happens when Alison decides her allegiance to her family is more important than to us? And when Isaac is in trouble and Scott has to go save him? Or vice versa? What happens then, Stiles? Who do you run to? Lydia? Please. And your dad’s bullets won’t do much against 7 sets of teeth staring him straight in the face.”  
  
Stiles’ face has lost any semblance of color it previously contained. He continues to stare into Derek’s eyes, where that thing is flickering in and out between bouts of anger.  
  
“I guess I’d just… count on you.”  
  
Stiles can see the shiver that runs through Derek’s body. His fists clench, but Stiles knows Derek wouldn’t punch him against his mother’s tree. Derek turns to face away from Stiles.  
  
“I can’t trust myself anymore. I’ve lost Erica and Boyd already. I can’t…”  
  
The sentence trails off and Derek looks up at the moon. It’s full. Of course.  
  
“You can’t what, Derek?”  
  
Derek’s muscles tighten and he’s standing ramrod straight. He lets out several short breaths, and then allows a forced ease to overcome him. He turns back towards Stiles.  
  
The look has overtaken Derek’s eyes. It’s there; it’s palpable. Stiles doesn’t know why, but he feels like there’s been a certain amount of time leading up to this moment. He feels like a glass of water, and Derek is about to fill him and then overfill him. He recalls the first time they met, and how terrified he was. And now he’s standing on Derek’s mother’s burial site and Derek is about to break the glass.  
  
“Werewolves are drawn strongly to specific people. In any capacity. There’s the way that Scott is drawn to Alison, which is an obvious example. But then there’s the way that Isaac is drawn to Scott, which is less discernable. We’re drawn to these people because once a person becomes a werewolf there are few things that fix us to our humanity. Scott acknowledges Alison as this person, because the idea of her turning her back on him keeps him from making mistakes and allowing the wolf to take over. Isaac acknowledges Scott as this person for the same reason – he can’t bear the thought of Scott’s disappointment.”  
  
Stiles wants to tell Derek that he knows all of this. He can’t.  
  
“Wolves usually refer to this person as our anchor. For a long time, mine was Laura. I was young and the words to describe the feeling didn’t come easily. I thought about it everyday until finally I understood – the way I felt about Laura was the way I felt about the sun. As long as the sun was out, I was ok. I was far less likely to have an attack during the day than the night. I felt warm and safe in Laura’s presence. She was the most important person in the whole world.”  
  
An inexplicable sadness overcomes Stiles.  
  
“And then she died and I lost my sun.”  
  
Stiles knows that if his mind weren’t fuzzy from so little sleep, he would feel something about the direction this conversation was headed. Instead he just feels close to overflowing.  
  
Derek heaves a sigh.  
  
“The boy in the sweatshirt,” he mumbles to himself.  
  
Stiles’ head perks at this. What.  
  
Derek looks straight into the boy’s eyes and the look is swimming and Stiles can feel the waves and reverberations.  
  
“Stiles. You’re my new anchor.”  
  
Stiles isn’t sure how he didn’t see this coming.  
  
So that’s the look. The look in Derek’s eyes as if he’s looking straight into the sun. And he doesn’t even mind.  
  
Stiles doesn’t know how to respond. Part of him thinks he should run back to his car, drive home and pretend this didn’t happen. Part of him thinks he should yell at Derek for putting him in this position. Part of him thinks he should nod and agree with Derek that it’s better for both of them if he stayed away. A very small part of him wonders if he should ask Derek under what category this relationship falls – the Alison/Scott category or the Isaac/Scott category?  
  
He settles on the latter, containing the fear that Derek will rip out his throat.  
  
“I haven’t figured that out yet,” Derek admits when asked.  
  
Stiles thinks this may be the tipping point. He feels the water starting to overflow when he asks how they’ll figure it out.  
  
He doesn’t know where this came from. This sudden need to understand how to define whatever relationship it was that they possessed. He figures that if someone tells you that they consider you equivalent to the sun, it changes certain things.  
  
It changes the way that Stiles wants Derek to see him. He doesn’t want Derek to feel negatively about having a 17-year-old kid as his anchor. He wants Derek’s trust. He recognizes that whatever magnetic force is pulling Derek towards himself must work both ways, because suddenly he wants to know everything – he wants to know how long Derek has felt this way, why he kept it a secret, does Scott know? How does the pack change now that Derek’s anchor is directly involved? Does Isaac love Scott? Does Derek love Stiles? Does Stiles love Derek? Can Stiles text message Derek freely now? Does he have responsibilities as Derek’s anchor? Like regular check-ins and pizza nights? Or is he encouraged to stay as far away as possible? Should they give the Alison/Scott dynamic a shot?  
  
Stiles knows that he is about to overflow. His questions concerning sexuality stopped around age 14 when he decided that kissing was positive no matter whom with, and they hadn’t returned until 30 seconds prior.  
  
“I’ve been wondering the same thing myself, actually,” Derek says in response to Stiles’ question about how they’ll figure this out.  
  
Stiles looks at the leaves beneath his feet. He wants to lie down.  
  
“Derek, it’s 3:30 am. I’m in a forest and the werewolf who has terrified me for 3 years just told me he thinks I’m the most important person in the world. Maybe we should give it a shot before you stifle this away with all your other emotions.”  
  
Derek shoots Stiles a look of exasperation.  
  
“Fine,” he says curtly.  
  
Derek takes Stiles by the shoulder and leads his back to the tree. He takes the boy’s face in his hands and Stiles’ eyes close autonomously. Derek’s lips hover over Stiles’ for a moment, and then they’re kissing.  
  
Stiles overflows. He feels the shift in his body as Derek pours too much into him. The glass breaks and Stiles is grabbing at Derek’s hair and pulling him closer in a far too zealous display of raw emotion. And he feels so calm and warm and (could it be) happy.  
  
Derek’s hands are holding Stiles firmly in place, and Stiles can’t thank him enough. He feels the months and weeks and years of stifled emotions pouring out and he wants to save them in little jars forever to remind himself why this is validated.  
  
He needs to catch a breath and he lets go and slumps against the tree. Derek almost falls on top of him, but catches himself and immediately turns to walk away.  
  
Stiles gasps a few breaths and nods.  
  
“The boy on the bridge.”  
  
Derek returns.  
  
“Stiles we can’t do this.”  
  
Stiles shakes his head.  
  
“Absolutely not.”  
  
Stiles stands and Derek straightens his back. They walk back to the road. They look at each other, get into their respective cars and they drive away.  
  
  
“The boy who always keeps me from jumping off the bridge.”

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry about the Twilight reference. The title is from the Los Campesinos! song "My Year In Lists." The poem referenced is "I Had a Dream About You" by Richard Siken. Thanks for reading, motherfuckers. (And special thanks to Dee.)


End file.
